


Losing it

by theoncomingwolf



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash, Maybe written during s2?, Written between seasons 1 and 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4207950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoncomingwolf/pseuds/theoncomingwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is noted, in many of the clones’ files, that they have a predisposition towards irrational behavior and anxiety; this comment is also included in the data concerning one Cosima Niehaus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing it

**Author's Note:**

> Still moving my tumblr fics over here. This one was written between seasons 1 and 2- or maybe during season 2?- so contains my optimistic shippy outlook of the time. A nice pretend canon to return to sometimes, lol.

It is noted, in many of the clones’ files, that they have a predisposition towards irrational behavior and anxiety; this comment is also included in the data concerning one Cosima Niehaus.

Delphine, in all the time she has spent with Cosima, for all the observation she has done, has yet to notice such a tendency from the scientist. If anything, she tends to be calm and levelheaded, if somewhat snippish when she’s angry.

Cosima Niehaus, from what Delphine can tell, has outgrown any irrationality and has figured out an effective way to control any anxiety she may have. That is, until one night at three AM.

Delphine wakes up to an empty bed and a clanging in the kitchen.

When she crawls out of bed to investigate, she finds Cosima pulling pots down from the cabinets, squinting at each of them in turn before setting them back. She finally settles on a small saucepan. 

She doesn’t notice Delphine until she turns back around. The pot jumps out of her hand in surprise, as Cosima blurts out an expletive. She manages to catch it before it can clatter to the floor, sending it to her side and inadvertently slamming the pot against her thigh.

“Jesus,” she mumbles, swiping her hand over her eyes, which are free of glasses.

“Sorry?” Delphine says, “what are you doing?”

“Uh,” Cosima looks to the pot in her hand, not lifting her gaze to Delphine any more for fear of a headache, “I couldn’t sleep; kinda stressed. I wanted coffee, but I thought I should sleep a little so I was going to make Ramen.”

“Noodles?”

Delphine isn’t sure where noodles come in as an acceptable substitute for coffee, but Cosima has always been quirky.

Cosima nods, sadly, glaring at her pot for a second longer before dropping it loudly on the counter.

“To hell with it, I want coffee.”

Delphine steps closer, taking both of Cosima’s arms in a tight grip once she turns back from the kettle; her nearsighted eyes focus on the blonde. 

“What are you stressed about?”

Cosima lets out a rattled breath; whether it’s from tears or blood, Delphine doesn’t know.

She has a lot on. She’s sick, her sisters are in all different kinds of trouble, and so much in her life has changed so quickly.

“I can’t find my favorite mug.”

That is not what Delphine expects to her.

“And Sarah seemed mad, on the phone today,” she continues, “I couldn’t find my glasses when I woke up to find the mug- which I didn't find either; the university hasn’t sent me my stuff yet… I’m just a mess, in general. I had it together for awhile, but I lost it again.”

“…You got up for a mug?” Delphine asks, her sleep-addled mind still trying to catch up.

“I thought I remembered where it was,” Cosima mumbles; the kettle clicks off behind her, but she pays it no mind, eyes glued to the floor.

Delphine pictures the mug Cosima uses most mornings- white with flowers. She steps past the brunette to get to the cabinets- mindful of the hot electric kettle- and reaches onto a high shelf, feeling around until her hand hits cool ceramic. Delphine pulls down the mug, handing it to Cosima, who takes it with wide eyes.

“You didn’t lose it, you’re just short,” Delphine tells her, “sorry I put it so high, there was no room on the lower shelf. You brought this here?”

“It’s my favorite,” Cosima shrugs, a sort puff of air escaping her lips that might be a laugh.

“Sarah’s just stressed,” Delphine reasons, “I’ve never met her when she wasn’t mad- I wouldn’t take it personally.”

Cosima smiles, leaning her head forward until it is resting against Delphine’s shoulder. She thinks to what other things Cosima said.

“Glasses, college,” Cosima says, helpfully.

“Right- your glasses are here somewhere, I’ll help you look,” Delphine assures her, “and we sent in your thesis and documentation that you got a job in a lab, along with all of the necessary calls made to ensure the situation is worked through- they can’t not graduate you.”

Cosima nods, against her shoulder. Delphine turns the kettle back on, taking the sugar and instant coffee out of the drawer and pulling the flowered mug from Cosima’s grasp. She manages to make the cup of coffee with one hand, the other still wrapped around Cosima’s waist.

She can’t help but picture younger Cosima, details of the one pressed to her side now mixed with reports from her file. She pictures late night panics over grades- Cosima was valedictorian, after all- and worries over people who did not deserve her. She once mentioned about the time she scratched her dad’s car and didn’t tell him, just waited for the man to notice. Delphine wonders if that incident prompted late night coffee stressing too.

There’s a lot she doesn’t know about her girlfriend, still, but finds this one to be a pleasant surprise. She can calm Cosima down pretty well. Whatever genetic predisposition Cosima has towards anxiety can clearly not be handled completely by the methods Cosima has mastered, but that’s okay.

Delphine is there to help out.


End file.
